


Muted

by starrynightwrt



Series: The World Through Will Schofield's Eyes [2]
Category: 1917 (Movie 2019)
Genre: 500 words of me not knowing how to describe grief, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, M/M, yes its about that scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-23
Updated: 2020-02-23
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:48:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22862020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starrynightwrt/pseuds/starrynightwrt
Summary: He stopped. Blake was no longer breathing.
Relationships: Tom Blake/William Schofield
Series: The World Through Will Schofield's Eyes [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1643431
Comments: 4
Kudos: 39





	Muted

_"Talk to me. Tell me you know the way."_

_"I know the way. I’m going to head south east until I hit Ecoust. I’ll pass through the town and out to the east, all the way to Croisilles Wood."_

_"It’ll be dark by then."_

_"That won’t bother me. I’ll find the 2nd, I’ll give them the message, and then I’ll find your brother. Just like you, a little older."_

* * *

He stopped. Blake was no longer breathing.

Schofield eyes fell shut as Blake's heart beat the last beat. His fingers were still laced with the younger boy's, feeling the touch of Blake's skin grew colder by the second, Sco squeezed gently. Their hands were caked in a mixture of sweat, mud, and blood, but he didn't care, he wanted to savor the last trace of warmth on Blake's palm against his. All he felt at that very moment was emptiness in his heart, numbness pounding his brain, salty tears flowed unchecked from his eyes, and shear nothingness taking hold of his soul threatened to engulf him entirely. 

His thoughts wander in silence. Unconsciously replaying the previous minutes, hours, days, weeks, even months spent with the love of his life; his smiles, his giggles, his constant need of feeding every two hours or so. The faint cheer of him calling out his name, shouting at him to come along, followed by the light steps of his boots against the grass covered meadow, echoed on the back of Sco’s head.

_“Sco! Come on you old bastard!”_

Blake was _Blake;_ young, hopeful, dumb of ass, pure of heart, as they say. Unable to see the difference between honourable self sacrifice and blatant idiocy most of the time. Sort of ill-fitting with the concept of war itself. It was already lost in count how many times the boy got in trouble for wearing his heart on his sleeves. Yet, Sco couldn’t help but fall for the bloke. 

What he once treasured was now memory, a shadow lingering in the depths of his mind. 

Sco’s other hand was cradling the head of the younger boy, fingers blushing lightly on his cheeks. His eyes came to rest on Blake’s cheeks, noticing how they were no longer blushing pink, it was pale, _nay_ , scratch that, it was grey. He brushed his finger on more time, applying slight pressure, because that usually brought out the pinkish complexion of Blake’s skin, but it was too late. His grief surged with every expelled breath, always reaching higher peaks, never soothed by his long intakes of the summer air. Tears began to spill from his helpless eyes. In that moment of loss, his world collapsed - where there was light became shadows, where there were colors became grey. 

Schofield eyed then trailed up, tracing the hill tops, the skyline, the field. He blinked. 

No blue. No green. No yellow. No red.

Just _grey._

Everything turned dull and _lifeless._ Just the way it was. His world was now a muted spectrum of colors again.

**Author's Note:**

> :)


End file.
